


the backlash of loneliness that comes after happiness

by vindice



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: AU, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Eating Disorders, M/M, Reminiscence, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 21:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vindice/pseuds/vindice
Summary: The way Leon hovers on his shoulder and licks the corner of his jaw as he tilts down his fedora to partially shadow his face brings no more solace than the last time, but he appreciates the intention.





	the backlash of loneliness that comes after happiness

**Author's Note:**

> [✿](https://youtu.be/zVxdY4rWIlQ) [✿](https://youtu.be/QfIdq12Tj4k)
> 
> I wrote this in a day but decided to add and change some things today. Lucky you, you get the happy version of the OTP because I'm not as angsty as I was yesterday. Enjoy.

**Routine**  
“ _You need to eat_ ,” he tells him, big round eyes filled with warmth and concern, and Reborn smiles indulgently.

“Okay,” he agrees easily. “But when I'm done. I can't eat in the middle of a mission.”

He turns around still smiling softly until his image dissipates, and he drops the act. The way Leon hovers on his shoulder and licks the corner of his jaw as he tilts down his fedora to partially shadow his face brings no more solace than the last time, but he appreciates the intention.

**Loyal**  
It’s been three years since he went back to freelance and four since he started looking everywhere.

**Ephemeral**  
The thing about love, he thinks, is that it turns you into something you should end up abhorring. It makes your edges softer when you have it, kinder, even if a little. It takes away what you were but at least you still have it.

The problem comes when it's taken away from you. It always happens suddenly and fast; so fast that it leaves you dizzy, whimpering with desolation and denial.

There used to be nothing that Reborn hated more than denial. Now is the only thing he has that keeps him grounded when the loving touch of Tsuna’s hands and lips grazes against his cheeks and mouth at night.

For someone who's known as the World’s Greatest Hitman, he can't bring himself to abhor something that for a second makes him the weakest man alive.

**Mourning**  
Everyone tells him that it's okay to hurt, that he shouldn't let it change him. It's the Mafia, they've all been there at some point of their lives and it's only a matter of time before he can look back and not feel as if he's walking on thin ice. That a new Boss will come, that they understand him.

It enrages Reborn. _No, you don't_ , he wants to snap. They weren't the ones that lost the steadiness of their steps, the constant presence in every aspect of their life. The thing that held them close in this world and saved them from their past.

**Permanence**  
Mukuro is the one who gives him the box.

In it resides a simple sketchbook, but one he would recognize anywhere. It's the only non-Mafia related thing Tsuna never left the Compound without, the one he always carried around in his spare time. He is tempted to just keep it inside his suit and close to his heart because it's something so treasured for Tsuna that he's almost afraid to open it, even when he has seen it over the brunette’s shoulder countless of times before.

His fingers trace almost reverently the graphited lines on each of the pages, precious scenes Tsuna felt the need to immortalize in paper. He takes a shaky breath when he realizes that at some point or another he was with him the day he captured each of the drawings in those places. Sunsets, starry skies, the cliff. A beach, Naples, flowered gardens. He stops when he gets to the last page, the one marked with an infinity on the upper right corner.

It's a drawing of himself. He's looking at the sky; a soft, honest smile on his face. His coat is nowhere to be seen, but he's still wearing his vest and shirt while his arm rests on his folded leg, his fedora hanging loosely from his elegant fingers. His left hand is twirling his sideburns, a simple band he certainly doesn't own fitting perfectly on his ring finger. From the background he can recognize their hiding spot in the forest and his chest warms and tightens at the same time.

He wonders if this is how heartbreak feels.

**Chimerical**  
He is gone; the sun still sets and the time still passes. It's almost as it used to be before he met him and Reborn can almost pretend he was never there.

He can almost pretend, but the deep ache in his chest where their bond used to be knows better than that.

**Delicate**  
Lal has never been one to sympathize and she hates pity above most things, but he thinks that's also because she craves for it deep down. He's sure it's for Colonnello that she's still kicking around, and he's even more sure that it's because she knows that he's alive for Tsuna’s memory that she still bothers with him.

That's why she buys him food once a month and makes espresso even if she dislikes the bitter taste, and when she arrives to the place the Hitman is currently spending time — _not hiding_ , he snarls at her, — she throws the takeout bag at his face. It never hits him but it's enough time for him to tiredly scrub his eyes and adjust his fedora, so he gives her points for her efforts.

**Unwavering**  
Reborn’s back is turned to the Vongola Headquarters as he lingers in the back garden near the forget-me-nots Tsuna has always loved, and his eyes soften as his hand shoots forward to tenderly touch them, even when he knows people are watching him from the high windows behind him.

**Sublime**  
Reborn likes the hot, slick liquid dripping from his hands whenever he takes a hit these days. He still uses his gun most times but there's something alluring about bathing in the blood of the people who dared to torn apart what once was his and will always be.

**Feral**  
His eyes are endless pits of darkness and his face is blank, but not even all the expressionless acts are enough to hide the hunger behind his eager orbs nor the fire that they hold.

He craves blood and he's going to take it from the fuckers begging for mercy at his feet.

**Volatile**  
He observes with bored eyes as giant chunks of debris fall towards the men with the emblem that once was carried by his pride when his Chaos Shot hits the rocks.

He's planning on burying them alive anyway.

Reborn turns around and ignores the screams of agony they're already howling in the pits of the hole he threw them after chopping off their limbs.

**Correlation**  
A yawn escapes his mouth as he opens the door to one of his safe houses. He shoves his keys on the table near the entrance before going to the kitchen to fetch something for Leon.

When he goes back to the living room his first instinct is to bare his teeth at someone having invaded his territory without him noticing. The only thing holding him back from uselessly shooting at the Man with the Iron Hat is that he's using his human skin.

“I have a proposition.” Kawahira says as a greeting. Reborn scoffs but nods for him to continue as he eyes the Vongola Ring he's twirling around his forefinger.

**Dusk**  
He considers the night his favorite time and he tells himself it's because it's always been there for him, ever since he was a child entwined with the darkness as he pulled the trigger that fed him, and not because the stars shine brighter than anything else from where he lays next to the coffin in the forest.

He thinks about the offer.

**Solid**  
He’s never been one to smoke, and while he enjoys a good drink once in a while, he thinks nothing can compare to his beloved espresso.

There is something he remembers every time his dark and bitter liquid burns at the back of his throat, and it's the fact that nobody will ever come close to prepare a cup of coffee as good as any of Tsuna’s were, including the ones he prepared when he had no idea how to make them.

**Longing**  
He closes his eyes at the edge of the cliff and feels the sea breeze hit him in the face, salt lingering in the air and for once he doesn't care about the humidity of the ocean and what it can do to his suit.

There is familiarity in the warmth that lingers in his skin, slowly disappearing until cold soaks his bones as the sun sets down. He slips his hands in his pockets and sighs.

_Might as well do it now_ , he snorts.

He jumps.

**Precious**  
“Tsuna.”

“Hmm?” He feels the murmur against his skin.

Reborn's obsidian orbs don't leave the fire dancing in front of them. He took off his fedora as soon as he arrived to the forest and his bangs fall carelessly around his eyes. Absentmindedly, he scratches under Leon’s chin. “I miss your food.”

The laugh he receives is rich and reverberates against his bare chest, and he doesn't bother to hold back the grin playing on his lips. He doesn't mind the warmth feeling fluttering inside of him, or the way his stomach flips at the sound of it, either.

“Is that so?” He wonders. “Then I will just have to cook from now on. I need to recover you all that weight you neglected while we were apart.”

Reborn can feel the underlying hurt in Tsuna's words, so he tightens his grip around the lithe figure in front of him. He hums soothingly and kisses behind his ear, feels his body melt against his chest.

“I wouldn't have it any other way.”

And as his hand draws shapeless figures against Tsuna’s hip and the other entwines their fingers, he finds his words hold a certain amount of truth.

He could have gone without the time apart and the hurting, but he would willingly go through it all over again if it means he will be reunited with Tsuna at the end.

**Author's Note:**

> It looks like a suicide but it's not, don't worry. Open to your interpretation how he ends up with the real Tsuna instead of the ‘ghost’ at the beginning.


End file.
